On the way to the appointment, they talk about their New Year’s plans. It’s December, and A is getting her tattoos removed. M is driving her because she is the only friend A trusts enough to witness the betrayal of her former belief in permanency. M also just likes to drive her places pretty often. ...
I stand on the chair, trying to keep my balance. My right arm stretches upwards as I reach for the top shelf, and I carefully grab the heavy box. I place it on my desk and I open it, and there it is: “When I grow up I will fly.” Among all my old hand-written letters, I choose this one to keep reading. ...
Today I’m in the museum lobby, newly thrifted jacket in hand, waiting for my friends to come out. Today I’m in Amsterdam. Specifically, I’m at the Rembrandt House Museum, though I wouldn’t know—I haven’t gone past the lobby. Still, “Rembrandt van Rijn" is written in a font so big it’s ...
Solutions by The State News
